


Blood Brothers

by the_morgue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bloodlust, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Consent, Established Relationship, Graphic Description, Incest, Knifeplay, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Violence, Oral Sex, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers, Sexual Violence, Sibling Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:59:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_morgue/pseuds/the_morgue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the boys are meticulous serial murderers on a weekly rampage, slashing and gutting their way through America. Their methods of killing are less than clean and the boys get a different kind of rush from taking a life that keeps them coming back for more over and over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ready Sammy? Let's get Started.

**Author's Note:**

> My old man is a tough man,  
> but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam  
> and he shows me, he knows me,  
> every inch of my tar-black soul.  
> He doesn't mind I have a flat, broke-down life.  
> In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like  
> about me, admires me,  
> the way I roll like a rolling stone.
> 
> \--  
> Light of his life, fire of his loins,  
> keep me forever, tell me you want me.  
> Light of your life, fire of your loins,  
> tell me you own me, gimme them coins.  
> \--  
> My old man is a thief, and  
> I'm gonna stay and pray with him till the end.  
> But I trust in the decision of the Lord  
> to watch over us,  
> take him when he may, if he may.  
> I'm not afraid to say  
> that I'd die without him.  
> Who else is gonna put up with me this way?  
> I need you, I breathe you, I'd never leave you.  
> They would rue the day I was alone without you.

“Sam.” 

Dean whispers, walking three paces forward and slipping his arms tightly around Sam’s waist. instantly he felt his brother’s head lean against his naked shoulder, and the tight heave of his body taking a deep breath in. 

“You feeling okay?” He asked, to which Sam replies hoarsely. “Yeah.” Swallowing hard beginning to break a light sweat. Leaning further against Dean he bit his lip, almost wishing he enjoyed this process a little less.. Then again - almost. “Are we getting someone?” he asked hopefully, long hair feathering across his face as he turned his neck, burying it in Dean’s. 

Dean let his hands ghost along the curves of Sam’s abdomen, then switched to rubbing his belly in soothing circled motions. “If that’s what you want.” Dean obliged, already knowing the answer without even having to ask. Even though he was the prominent figure - the one who got more enjoyment from taking a life, Sam was just as active and in tune with the murders as Dean was, and they got him off sexually maybe even more. 

Sam sighed in relief and nodded, almost choking out a light sob as he was nurtured by his big brother. “Now.” he said slowly, taking a pace forward and escaping Dean’s embrace, turning around slowly. “You’ll go now?” he asked this time, realizing his mistake even though in this situation he wouldn't be punished for it.  
\--

Sam and Dean had been killing for a year now. It was impulsive, but cool and calculating at the same time. They weren't exactly sure how they started and they didn't know if the cause of their break was the death of their mother, father - or uncle, but Dean supposed it didn't really matter. Once they were left all alone, the already close pair became the only thing separating them both from life and death and the consequences couldn't have been anymore dangerous. 

The two could never stay in the same place for long, but that was okay. As long as they had their Impala and each other they would always be home no matter where they were. In each town they visited, the two first stopped at a car rental place - one dropping the other off and driving quickly away so they’d be harder to identify. They never drove the Impala when they were on a hunt, just left it in the back parking lot behind the motel and took their rental car. Even though it was the easiest thing people could link them to, Dean wouldn't give up the car no matter how many times Sam tried to convince him.

Once the car was rented, they only went to the motel desk to check in, and once they did they never went back. They spent almost all day in there until the night fell - getting things ready. In this instance there was several tarps set out along the carpet of the room, and an array of knives and other sharp weapons spread out upon the bed. Never guns, because gunfire made too much noise and were too quick. Also, rope binds were littered across the floor. They often wondered if killing in a motel room was a good idea, but it never served them any complications, and it made for an easier ruse. Once the kill was finally completed, and the two brothers relieved themselves if needed they carefully dismember the body and place the pieces inside two large army duffel bags. After cleaning and discarding the tarps and any other evidence they leave behind, they transport the duffels to their rental car - which Dean then drives for an hour at least in the opposite direction, throwing the contents of the duffel into a stream or a river before returning to Sam and disguising the bags as their luggage - placing their smaller ones inside. Finally able to sleep, they reside together in one bed and sleep for what’s left of the night - waking up and casually checking out the next day. Once the rental car was returned, they left the town never to return again careful to throw out each identity with each passing town.

It was a perfect plan and once a week for a year now, it was working almost flawlessly. Each other day of the week they led normal lives to an extent - staying in big cities like Vegas, or Tampa for five or six days before straying into a dirt town just big enough to have a bar and a motel.  
\--

Today it was time to complete one of the most difficult parts of their ritual, and that was hunting and luring their victims. This job in particular was Dean’s, because he was dominant and had a natural charisma that people were drawn to instantly. Besides, if you can get someone to trust you why do you need two people for an abduction? 

It was something Dean was proud of, and he did it with care. It usually took him less than an hour to hook a girl, and Sam always wondered how he did it - but he never watched. It wasn't his place. 

\--

Dean pulled a plain grey tee over his shoulders that correctly hugged his tight pecs as he watched his brother carefully. He was inspecting a knife idly by the bed closest to the door, running it swiftly between his fingers and testing the sharpness of the blade. Sam was shirtless and was wearing a pair of loose boxers to keep his clothes clean and un-contaminated, and clothes only restricted his needs anyway when it came to the kill. 

Once he was covered in a loose plaid patterned shirt he rolled up his sleeves and left the garment unbuttoned to draw more attention to his torso. He grabbed the rental keys and slipped them in his pocket after arming himself with a small pistol that he slipped in a holster hidden under his jeans. Turning to Sam he smirked, and the corner of his lip twitched as his brother returned it. “Ready Sammy?” he asked, hand on the doorknob behind him. 

“Ready.” he growled, sprawling out on the unused bed and curling his toes. 

Dean couldn't help but laugh as he opened the door, shutting it behind him with a sound of finality accompanying it. Tonight he’d bring Sam the perfect girl, even if he had to drive to another town. It was worth it to re-introduce Sam to the thrill of the act. 

He stepped out into the pale sky, and looked around. It smelled like dew, and the world was darkening before his eyes. The breeze hits him like an anchor and he smiles, drawing down the sleeves of his shirt. Dean guesses it’s about 8 or 9 O’clock, and the bar would just be filling up. It couldn't have been more than a perfect night and Dean had an amazing feeling about this.


	2. Dean's Masterpiece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby, I'm a sociopath,  
> Sweet serial killer.  
> On the warpath,  
> 'Cause I love you  
> Just a little too much.

Dean pulls up to the local bar in his rented Volkswagen and finds a spot toward the back. The place wasn't hard to find seeing as this town only has a couple populated areas, but it was surprisingly full and it seemed as though Dean may have some luck yet. He didn't bother locking the car as he stepped back out into the cooling evening air, just turned on his heel and walked the short distance to the entrance. 

He swung the door open and took a step inside, taking a breath in and savoring the scent of the cheap whiskey and sweat polluting the air. It was crowded, and the scratchy radio above the bar was playing a Pearl Jam song. It was a typical bar, and it gave Dean his ideal setting.

His head moved slowly from left to right, scanning the area before he found a place to sit. He had to make sure he sat in a place where his potential target would notice him, and he’d get some marinating time before he made his move. It was all a game really, and Dean had mastered the controls. 

It only took him about a full minute to find the one he wanted. Well - the one Sam wanted. The victim was never very important to him personally, but if Dean was to bring home a woman who wasn't brunette or had brown eyes he was done for. He assumed Sam picked these woman because of his teenage girlfriend Ruby, but he didn't ask and he didn't plan to. 

He took a seat beside her at the bar and flashed her a goofy smile, which was returned with a giggle and twirl of her hair between her fingers. She was already hooked, and Dean was almost impressed with himself. If he asked, he had no doubt in his mind she’d jump right in his car.. But that came later. Like he said, it was a game. 

He turned away only for a moment to order a beer before giving her another look over. She was beautiful - long wavy brown hair with light colored streaks, an oval face complete with perfect skin and the brown eyes to match. She was wearing a black leather jacket over a green tank top, and on her lower half she was wearing a short denim skirt. Sam would absolutely adore her. 

He waited about half a beer to make his move, turning his head and giving her a smile that oozed confidence. “Hey. I’m Dean.” he said simply, knowing that’s all he needed. He was attractive enough to get the job done with as little words as possible. She nodded and acted like she was playing hard to get, pursing her lips into a tight line before taking another sip of her drink. “Rita.” she replied, and Dean could already sense the excitement in her voice. 

“Rita.” he said with a light smirk, taking a sip of his beer. “Look at you.” he marveled, his bright green eyes swelling up and his pink lips plush and curling into an almost childlike state. “You’re so beautiful. Look at those eyes.” he gawked, almost barfing in his mouth in the process. Nonetheless she smiled wider and looked down at the bar. “Oh stop it.” she said, letting her straw make it’s way back to her mouth. “No seriously.” Dean said, putting a hand on her knee. 

Her skin felt warm and by the three empty glasses sitting beside the now half-full one, he came to the realization that she was already half in the bag. It was almost beautiful really, and now he didn't even have to try. 

She leaned into his touch and tilted her upper body towards him involuntarily, causing Dean to steady her with his hands. “Hey, hey, hey.” He said, pushing her back upright. “Listen, Rita - do you need a ride?” he asked, now incredibly anxious to get her home and share her with his brother. It was all he could think about and it was pounding at his brain, making his temples throb. 

She giggled and brushed the now slightly matted hair out of her face with the hand that wasn't bracing herself against the bar, and nodded. “Yeah... that’d be nice Dean.” She slurred, getting off her stool and stumbling over her 4 inch heels. 

Once he paid the tab with his fake credit card, he stood up alongside her and began to walk toward the exit. “You’re so nice, y’know that?” she asked as Dean linked his arm through hers and lead her out into the parking lot as steady as possible. He shrugged and began to zero in on the task at hand, muttering quick thanks before they got to his car. 

With minimal effort she climbed into the passenger seat beside Dean, and before she even knew what was happening he’d locked the four doors and put the vehicle into reverse. She was fading, nodding her head to the beat of some Zeppelin song playing on the car radio, and surprisingly never noticed when Dean never asked for her address - just drove the couple of miles back to his motel. 

He parked in front of their room and looked over at Rita who had a slightly frightened look in her eyes. “This isn't my house..” she said, pawing at Dean’s knee. ‘If she really knew what she was doing here, she’d be more than just concerned.’ He thought, smiling endearing at her and shaking his head. “No. I thought you’d like to stay with me tonight.” he said soothingly, only unlocking his own door so he could get out of the car and circle it to let her out. She was still muttering about how she’d love to stay and that Dean was such a gentleman when he lifted her onto her feet and walked her to the door of the motel.

\--

Every time Dean was at the bar, it was Sam’s complete and utter nightmare. It was when rage settled in his belly and the thought of being alone drove him into a temporary state of reckless insanity. He spent the time sharpening his knives and muttering to himself about how he wishes Dean would hurry up so he could get started. He missed his brother.

It was dark in the room when he heard the car’s quiet engine pull up to their door, and he lit up instantly - face illuminating with an evil smile. He sat on the edge of the unused bed and bit his lip in complete and utter anxiousness, shuddering when he heard Dean’s keys rattle in the lock.

It seemed like eternity before the door finally opened, and what Dean had on his arm instantly had Sam on his feet. “Dean...” he mumbled as he watched his brother subtly padlock the door behind them as Rita placed her handbag on the coffee table. “She’s perfect.” he completed his thought, stalking over the tarp with heavy footsteps. “Thank you..”

Dean smirked and shrugged off his plaid shirt, still amazed she hadn't noticed the weapons yet - until she did. He watched her hand plant against her mouth, and before she could start screaming he grabbed the fabric and shoved it in her mouth, muffling her cries. He held her from behind, stifling her movements as her mind quickly forced itself to sober up. 

“Shh.” Sam said, moving closer and stroking her hair with the back of his knuckles. “It’s all gonna be okay.” he almost hissed, gripping her wrists and forcing her on her knees with a hard grunt while Dean pushed her thrashing body onto her back over the tarps. He stationed her legs by straddling them, and held her hands above her head for Sam to tie together. Once that was done, they repeated the motion with her legs, standing up to admire their work as the woman once named Rita lie there wriggling in her bonds, drool running down her chin past the fabric still shoved down her throat. 

Once they were satisfied she was subdued, Sam turned to Dean and smiled. “How’d you find this one so fast?” he asked, looking over his brother as he focused in on their victim’s terrified face - eyes darting between the two of them and tears running freely down her face while her chest heaved rapidly. “I don’t know.” Dean mumbled, cock hardening in his jeans as he stared. 

“Get her clothes off.” Dean demanded, throwing Sam a long knife and unbuttoning his jeans idly. 

Sam obliged happily, cock pressing against the loose grey fabric of his boxers as he knelt and dragged the knife along her jaw line, reveling in her small shriek as he did so. He tilted his head to the side and smirked sickly. “Hey slut.” he cooed, reaching over to the bed for the scissors to begin cutting the sleeves of her leather jacket. “You having fun yet?” he asked, letting the shearing sound of the scissors echo through the room with each tough cut down the firm leather.  
She answered his question with a loud sob, which amused him thoroughly and once he was done he slid the heavy coat out from under her and threw it into the bathroom, gripping the fabric of the thin cotton tank top and leaning in close. “Me and my brother are gonna have some fun with you, okay?” he said almost alluringly as he teased her with the knife, dragging it across her collar bone and tracing white lines across her chest. “And you’re not gonna scream, or Dean here’s gonna cut your pretty little throat. Got it?” He waited a few moments before slowly slitting the green fabric apart and tearing it from around her neck. “I said, Got it?” he growled in her ear, listening to the sound of Dean shearing her skirt in half below him. 

She whimpered and nodded, which caused Sam to smile at her - plucking the fabric from her mouth slowly. He waited a moment with the knife pressed to her throat in case she tried something funny but she just swallowed and made little whimpering sounds. 

Dean made quick work of her bottom half, and she was completely undressed once a swift glide of Sam’s knife severed her bra. They knelt side by side so they could admire her olive toned body. She was sweaty and still wriggling every so often, but they could tell she was losing strength which would ultimately make this easier for them. Dean turned to Sam and put a hand on his lower back, massaging it lightly. “Go ahead, little brother.” he taunted, grabbing his favorite knife and twirling it between his fingers. “She’s all yours.” 

Rita’s eyes widened and she began to cry harder, beginning to plead. “Please, guys..” She began, shaking away her tears. “Please stop.” she tried again as her body was pulled forward by her ankles. “Ple-” She began again, but Sam cut her off by slapping her in the face causing it to whip to the side. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He grunted, thrusting her legs up into the air roughly as Dean circled slowly to the opposite side of her, kneeling in front of her face. Sam continued. “I don’t give a fuck what you say to be quite honest, so just do yourself a favor and shut your fucking mouth you fucking whore.” he spat, folding her so her ass was exposed to him and open. He smiled down at the flexing ring of muscle and spat on it, opening his ears to relish in the choked cry that came after.

Dean in the meantime was sliding his hands up and down her outstretched arms, finally gripping her small wrist and digging the bade across the flesh of her forearm making his first deep slice. She whined and took a deep breath in before Dean began to speak, covering her sobs. “Be nice for my brother.” he said simply, leaning down and attaching his mouth to the wound he’d just inflicted - sucking and bringing the woman’s blood into his mouth. 

He was rock hard, and it only got better when he felt the woman jerk forward under his mouth as his brother shoved his cock past her asshole and forced it inside. “Fuck.” he heard Sam grunt as he gripped onto her squirming hips. The girl screamed at the sudden impact and it caused Dean to detach himself from her, blood dripping from his lips as he pressed the knife against her chest. He remembered quickly where to avoid when trying to keep a victim alive, and slid the blade into her chest about an inch deep, rousing a sharp cry out of her. “I said, be nice. Sammy said no screaming.” he grumbled, looking up to get the approving smile of his brother who was now fucking his way into the girl at a slow agonizing pace.

She nodded and whimpered again, choking out a small “P-please.” and Dean pulled out his knife with one swift motion, leaning down and shoving his tongue in the wound - moaning from the taste of flesh and blood. She was crying again, but Dean didn't really care. Sam was moaning and thrashing below causing her to jerk forward again and again, deepening the wound and causing more blood to flow. 

While Dean continued his routine, Sam felt himself nearing the edge as he slammed in her tight ass slightly harder than before. It was obvious she’d never had anal sex before from the initial resistance and it was starting to take it’s toll. He’d done this so many times that it just became general knowledge after a while, but that didn't really matter now. Virgins were tighter, and they clenched harder around his aching cock. She was moaning softly under her sobs, which excited him as he watched his brother slice into her like a Christmas ham through his now damp matted hair. “Fuck, Dean - she’s so tight.” Sam grunted, pushing her thighs father down and changing his pace to increase the friction. He fucked into her a few more times before shuddering and pulling out, jerking himself off hard until he shuddered and came with a loud grunt - come spurting all over Rita’s quivering belly. Once he’d finished, he spat on her and smiled. “That was fun, dontcha’ think, slut?” She just closed her eyes and cried harder.

While Sam was catching his breath, Dean realized from the lack of noises Rita was making that she was going into shock. Her body was convulsing and she was whining, pleading to herself over and over as Dean just kept slicing and sucking, rubbing the excess blood into her skin, painting her like she was a canvas. 

Now that Sam was out of the way - currently off to the side deciding which weapon he’d use this time - Dean had more room to explore. He learned quickly where the major arteries were located within the year, and now he could arrange his stab wounds so that she wouldn't bleed out quickly. He moved down to her stomach and shifted his body so he was kneeling beside her, licking the metallic taste of her blood off his lips before sinking the knife in slowly above her belly button. She squealed and he laughed, looking up to the sight of Sam coming to join him, soft cock bobbing between his legs as he walked. 

Sam was holding a scalpel and when he knelt beside Dean he made sure Rita could see it, turning it so the small blade glinted in the harsh fluorescent light. He turned to Dean and smiled as the blade was slowly twisted inside her body, causing him to growl low in his throat - near dropping the tool to pull his brother’s blood smeared face into his for a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth. When they pulled away they looked at each other with lust blown eyes, Dean’s hand still twisting ever so slowly causing a consistent shriek to erupt from Rita’s throat.

“I love you.” Sam said, chest heaving.  
“I fucking love you too.” Dean replied, swallowing thickly and taking a few moments before looking down at the knife - cock still throbbing. “Whatcha gonna do with that?” he asked, eyes casting down to Rita once again.  
Sam smiled and shrugged, picking the small weapon back up and nearing the area of her face . “I think she’s making too much noise.” Sam mumbled, suddenly gripping her jaw hard in his giant hand - prying it open. “What do you think, Dean?” he asked. 

Dean came up behind Sam and slid his arms around his waist, kissing the underside of his ear. “Yeah. I think we gotta do something to shut her up.” he agreed, taking his arms back and backing up a pace.  
By now the girl was pleading again, sobbing and trying to rip her jaw away from the death grip forced upon it. “P-please..” she said weakly, head thrashing. “I have a ... a little g-irl.” she tried, coughing as Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, can you grab her tongue?” he asked, smirking down at her as Dean gripped the muscle between his fingers - pulling it outwards. She was shrieking but she couldn't yell very loud from the multiple stab wounds to her chest and stomach so the boys weren't worried. Sam was just focused on the task at hand, going as far back as he could and cutting. He cut her tongue like it was a steak, rough and slow so she could feel every swipe of the dull blade. She screamed the best she could until her tongue was half gone, rendering her vocal chords useless as she gurgled the blood in her mouth, desperately trying to get it out. 

There was tons of blood, and Dean was right down by her chin lapping it up - moaning and palming his cock through his boxers. They both knew she’d bleed out from her tongue being severed, but that would at least be a few minutes so he took another few seconds to relish until Sam stood back, throwing the woman’s tongue in her own face as the blood spurted out her mouth. She was coughing and Dean could hardly stand how hard he was from the sight, and he leaned down - sucking her breast into his mouth briefly before the blood started to drip. He ripped her nipple off with his teeth and spat it to his left, watching as she leaned her head back against the tarp. 

She was nearly dead, and Dean was sucking the blood from her breast while she was still breathing. Sam was standing behind him smiling down at her so it’d be the last thing she’d see before her eyes closed, and finally after a few agonizing minutes Rita’s body thrashed and tensed before going completely limp. Dean stood up beside Sam and swallowed what was in his mouth, taking in the sight of what lied before him. His masterpiece. 

\--  
Rita’s body was lying bound on the tarp. 25 stab wounds littered her body and 5 slices ran to the bone on both arms. Her glazed brown eyes were still open wide, and her tongue was lying atop her severed breast which was still oozing blood and tissue. Her mouth was overflowing with blood, and it ran down her neck - pooling

Dean thought it was his finest work yet.


End file.
